


altering life by holding it still

by tattooedsiren



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedsiren/pseuds/tattooedsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike can trace the progress of his and Harvey's relationship through his photographs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	altering life by holding it still

**Author's Note:**

> One day, when I was feeling a bit down, I asked my dear beta and bff [smartalli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/smartalli/pseuds/smartalli) to send me some Harvey/Mike feels to cheer me up. She did, and those feels became the backbone of about the first third of this fic. So this one is for Alli, because without her this fic wouldn't exist.
> 
> Title comes from the following quote by Dorothea Lange: Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still.
> 
> Takes place in some vague AU where really only the events of season one took place (because let's face it, unless you are writing something that directly references current canon it's the best kind of way to write Harvey/Mike fic lol)

It was a hobby Mike managed to keep secret for a long time.

Not that he was necessarily hiding it, except, okay he was, because life at Pearson Hardman was crowded and everyone knew everything (well, _almost_ everything, his most important secret was thankfully still that) and having everyone in each other's business could be suffocating. He liked having something that was just his, that no one knew about, that he could enjoy on his own terms and in his own time.

He'd been taking photographs for as long as he could remember. It started with an old Polaroid camera he found buried in his parent's study, and he went through what little film there was within the hour. But his parents, his mom especially, indulged his newfound passion, buying him more film whenever he ran out. He took pictures of everything: family, friends, strangers, buildings, nature, anything and everything that caught his eye.

It became a constant in his life. His bedroom wall became littered with photos. Even as the years passed, and his friends were plastering musicians or cars or scantily clad models on their walls, he never wavered. The pale blue of his bedroom wall above the tiny desk he did his homework at was always covered with photos. There were a lot of his parents, gone but never forgotten. He'd look up and see their faces and even through the pain of loss he'd still smile, because it was like they were still there, looking down on him.

When his life was shitty - which let's be honest, was pretty often - sometimes the only thing that would make him happy was his camera. He's gone through a lot of them over the years, scraping enough money together to buy newer and better models, and even when he was struggling to pay the bills he never once thought about selling his camera for some extra cash. He'd sooner sell a kidney than his camera.

And the thing is, it's not like they're artistic pieces worthy of merit which deserve to be displayed for the world to see. He can be objective about the whole thing. He knows that while some of the pictures are interesting and some of them are pretty and some of them were taken at just the exact right moment to capture something beautiful, it's not like this is something he could do full time or anything. It's just a hobby, but one he loves, and it's something he knows he'll be doing his whole life. When he's looking at the city through the camera lens, he sees its beauty, and he loves capturing that.

It makes him happy.

 

*

 

When he meets Harvey and starts work at Pearson Hardman Mike's free time disappears overnight.

But that's okay, because for the first time in too long he feels engaged in something, like his life has some kind of semblance of meaning again. It's stressful and exhausting and exhilarating and Mike finally feels something in him settle. Deep down he still doesn't think he deserves it, this chance Harvey has given him, but he's not fool enough to not take it. He will do everything in his power to earn his place by Harvey's side.

 

*

 

It's not that the work gets easier or that the hours get shorter. They don't. But Mike becomes more equipped to deal with it, better adjusted to his new life.

And it's a life he loves.

Before he knows it an entire year has gone by. Twelve whole months where no one has discovered his secret and he hasn't fucked up enough to make Harvey fire him. It's not enough to stop him worrying that at any tick of the clock something disastrous and irrevocable will happen to pull him from this life - he doesn't think that anxiety will ever truly leave him - but something in him does settle when the day arrives. It's a milestone, and Mike appreciates milestones. He knows better than most that a split second can change everything, just one heartbeat and your whole life can change, for better or for worse, and a part of him is always bracing himself for that.

He will always take time to recognize the good moments, because for him, before now, they were few and far between.

He doesn't think Harvey realizes what the day is, and he isn't going to mention it himself. Though he's not exactly ashamed of the pride he's feeling at having made it this far, and though he's usually pretty open with Harvey about most things, probably more open than he should be really, it still feels almost juvenile for him to put so much emphasis on the day. And he knows Harvey, knows the older man will likely smirk and make some crack about _where's my anniversary present_ or something equally dismissive, and Mike doesn't want to trivialize it, not this.

So he says nothing.

He's working in Harvey's office, both of them at the glass table, silently working on their case. They've had many nights like this over the year, where the room is quiet but for the gentle sound of Harvey's music playing in the background. Mike never would've imagined that he'd find this kind of contentment with Harvey. He'd always dreamed of being a lawyer, had imagined the rush of a case won and the joy of righting a wrong, but this, this quiet contentment, this feeling of ease and serenity he gets just from working beside Harvey, is unexpected in the best way. He feels fulfilled, like there is little else in the world he needs apart from this.

(He knows, deep down, that as much as he loves his job it's still because of Harvey, that if he was working with anyone else he wouldn't be feeling like this. It's Harvey. Of course it is.)

And then, when they call it quits for the evening, Harvey tells Mike to take the rest of the week off. Mike, startled, immediately panics, mind going to the worst case scenario. He starts talking, asking what he's done wrong, promises that whatever's wrong he can fix it, but Harvey just puts a palm up to silence him. Mike's heart is racing, and even Harvey's soft smile does little to reassure him.

He says Harvey's name, desperately, a last ditch effort to try and make this, whatever _this_ is, right. But then Harvey tells him he deserves the break, that it's a gift, that it's Harvey's way of showing his thanks for twelve months of hard work.

He doesn't take no for an answer, and when Mike leaves he feels completely dazed. This is partly because he has no idea what he's going to do with a whole four days worth of time that's all his, but mostly because he never needed to remind Harvey that it was a year ago today that they met because Harvey had remembered without him.

 

*

 

Out of all the feelings he thought he might have with the promise of a full four days ahead of him free to do with as he pleased, _lost_ is not the one Mike imagined having. But he's been working so hard for so long, with one day off here and a half day off there, that the idea of several uninterrupted days before him is just confusing.

The first morning he sleeps in, waking feeling relaxed if slightly groggy. After showering and dressing he shoves his phone and wallet into his pockets, grabs his keys and camera, and walks out the door.

He idly strolls the streets all morning, looking for anything that captures his attention. He feels rejuvenated with the camera in his hands, taking photos to his heart's content as he spends hours walking around Brooklyn. He loses track of the time as his SD card fills up, only realizing that he missed breakfast and it's actually past lunch time when his stomach grumbles in protest. So he grabs a quick bite when he passes a random food truck, takes a few photos of the owner (because she has such an interesting face, which lights up completely when she smiles), and then continues on his way.

He stays out until dusk, and when he makes it home he's tired but content.

 

*

 

The last thing Harvey had said to Mike before he'd left work was _see you Monday_ , and Mike had simply replied with the same before walking out of the office.

So, turns out that was a lie.

It's Sunday morning, and Mike has been thoroughly enjoying his time off. He cleaned his apartment, went to the movies, and spent entire days roaming the city with his camera in hand. Though he could admit to starting to feel slightly lonely being away from everyone at Pearson Hardman (okay, being away from Harvey) for so long, he was still happy. It was rejuvenating, giving his brain time to relax. A rarity, but an essential one for a mind that works the way his does. One it hasn't had in too long.

This morning, his last free day before he has to go back to work, he's decided to explore Central Park. It's a beautiful day, right at the perfect temperature - warm but not hot - with some intermittent cloud coverage, the low light helping to give his photos the exact tone he was after. He's just wandering aimlessly when it happens.

There, across the park, is Harvey.

He is sitting at a small wrought iron table, sipping a coffee and reading the paper. He's dressed casually, in jeans and an actual t-shirt, and Mike can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen Harvey in something without a collar. Mike is surprised by the casual clothes, but less surprised that he looks as good in them as he does in his five figure suits. He looks relaxed as he sits there by himself, oblivious to the world.

Mike wonders at the odds of them running into each other, but then he looks around him and realizes, yeah, this area of the park isn't that far from Harvey's condo. He's practically strolled into Harvey's neighborhood and is still surprised to run into him.

Mike considers going over and saying hello, but something stops him. He doesn't know what exactly, he just knows the pull to extract his camera from its case and take a photo is stronger. So he does. He looks at Harvey with complete objectivity, the way he would a stranger. He can't help but focus on the moles that dot his face, the way his thin lips quirk upwards when he reads something amusing, his large hands as they wrap around his coffee cup or turn the pages of his newspaper.

Mike loses track of how long he stands there, essentially lurking in the bushes and photographing someone from afar, but like a switch being flicked in his head he suddenly realizes how inappropriate he's being. He feels awful, shamed, and he turns on his heel and flees in the opposite direction.

Doesn't stop him from poring over the photos when he gets home though.

 

*

 

Nor does it stop him from going back the following Sunday to see if he can catch Harvey again.

It's been a good week. He and Harvey kicked ass on their latest case, with the other lawyer suitably cowered when her underhanded and borderline illegal tactics were discovered, which led to a larger than expected settlement. It was a good way to end the week, and when he left work early on the Saturday afternoon Mike was determined that he was going to spend his day off at home.

He doesn't.

Instead Mike can't help but remember Harvey, sitting there in Central Park, just one of the masses. Mike can't stop from wondering if it was just a one off, or if that was something he did every weekend. And the desire to know, to know something about Harvey and his life away from work, to get a glimpse of the real man that Mike knows he has significant yet undetermined feelings for, is a desire too strong to resist.

So he once again finds himself in Central Park, essentially stalking his boss.

Because Harvey is there again, sitting at the same table, reading his paper and sipping his coffee. He has a bagel this time too, and when Mike lets out a sound that is half moan half sigh when Harvey licks some cream cheese off this thumb he knows it's time to go.

He walks away without looking back.

 

*

 

The thing is, Mike likes to think he's a pretty self aware sort of guy. Take the stalking of Harvey thing for example. Lesser men might romanticize the act, or excuse it completely as mere coincidence that they both just happened to be at the same place at the same time, suppressing the truth that it was a very deliberate act.

Not Mike. He knows it's wrong, even if he can't stop himself from doing it.

(Just like he knew Trevor had turned into a bad guy, a toxic presence tainting his life. He knew Trevor was dragging him down, but he had loved his best friend still, even though the whole time he _knew_ he had to let him go. Or his attraction to Rachel, which was only sparked because she had told him she wasn't interested in dating anyone at work. It was like a challenge he wanted to win, even though the whole time he knew that they really weren't right for each other and world just end up making each other miserable.)

So he knows himself, and he recognizes his actions for what they are, even if he doesn't like them.

He doesn't go and find Harvey every weekend, because he wouldn't be able to look himself in the mirror if he did, but maybe once every three or four weeks he'll go and there Harvey will be, at his usual table, indulging in his Sunday morning tradition. He's always alone, and Mike idly wonders why. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? What about all the one night stands - does he kick them out so he can come down here, or is he just not indulging anymore? Mike never goes over to say hello, he just watches for a while, intrigued and enthralled, and he'll take some photos and head home. At which point he'll flick through them, a small smile tickling at his lips.

He wouldn't say he becomes obsessed, and he's self aware remember, so no need to take a grain of salt along with that statement. But there must be a word for how he feels. Addicted, maybe? Devoted? Captivated?

Harvey becomes his favorite subject, each photo illuminating something, oftentimes a trait previously unseen to Mike. He knows Harvey pretty well - in fact, Mike wouldn't hesitate to say that there's no one he knows better, just like there's no one that knows him better - but he still sees something new when he looks through his camera lens and presses the shutter button.

And yet, despite all that, despite his self-awareness and alleged intelligence, it still comes as a surprise the day he realizes he's in love with Harvey.

 

*

 

He didn't mean for this to happen. In fact, if he knew it was going to, he would have actively tried to stop it.

Not because it was wrong or anything, but just because it was painful, inappropriate, and so obviously never going to happen. And really, Harvey is the most important person in his life. He may be in love with him, but he also loves Harvey, loves their relationship, and he won’t risk what they have for the world.

So yeah, he might be in love with Harvey, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really change anything. He still works by Harvey's side every day, they still joke and bait and banter, he still makes Harvey glow with pride and scowl with disappointment, he still learns something new every day.

He might long for something he knows he can never have, but despite that, he's still happy.

 

*

 

It's maybe three or four months after that first time he saw Harvey in Central Park that Mike's life changes in an unforeseen and irrevocable way.

He didn't think he'd have another life-changing moment, not so soon after meeting Harvey and convincing him to hire Mike despite his lack of law degree, but clearly the universe had other ideas. Or maybe it was Harvey that had other ideas, since he was so pivotal in both.

The day starts differently in that when Mike gets to Central Park, Harvey isn't here yet. In all the times Mike has watched Harvey (yes, he knows exactly how bad that sounds) Harvey was already there, sitting at one of the wrought iron table and chair sets scattered around the area. But today Mike's eyes scan back and forth a few times before he accepts that Harvey just isn't here.

Thrown by these new circumstances, unsure whether to stay or go, he stands there vacillating on the topic for so long that the decision is effectively taken from him when Harvey shows up five minutes later. Cue the next difference in today's events.

Harvey has two cups of coffee in hand.

He sits at the table, puts his drink in front of him and the second one on the table in front of an empty chair. Jealousy spikes hot in Mike's chest. He knows he shouldn't feel this way, has no right to feel jealous that his boss is apparently meeting someone on this fine Sunday morning. But he can't help it. It feels like some kind of betrayal, that of all the places he could meet them, Harvey is meeting this person here and now. It's like he's annoyed that Harvey's breaking some sacred ritual he wasn't even aware he was a part of, and yes, Mike realizes how crazy the whole thing is.

Self aware, remember?

But you know what, just because this is happening, doesn't mean he has to stand here and watch it. He lifts his camera to his face, because he wants one last photo, one last picture he can add to his collection, because he knows that he's never coming back here again.

Only, when he looks through the viewfinder and finds Harvey in the frame, it's to see that Harvey is looking right at him.

Mike is so shocked, the camera falling from in front of his face, that he barely registers that Harvey doesn’t look annoyed or pissed off. In fact, he's smiling. Mike's too dazed to process what's happening, doesn't even have the presence of mind to flee like any normal person would. Instead he just stands there, staring at Harvey, until Harvey quirks a hand, beckoning him over.

For some stupid reason Mike actually goes. It's practically a Pavlovian response at this point, coming whenever Harvey calls, and even when he walks over and collapses in the chair he still feels breathless, like he has no idea what's going on.

Harvey, the smug bastard, just smirks at him, like he's amused by Mike's confusion. He then picks up the spare coffee cup, holding it out until Mike finally grasps that it's for him. He takes it, sipping the drink.

It's a triple shot hazelnut Americano with cream, just the way Mike likes it.

 

*

 

Mike can trace the progress of his and Harvey's relationship through his photos.

When Harvey asks Mike back to his apartment on the day of the two coffees - he wants to see Mike's work, but the screen on the camera is so tiny he imagines it couldn't possibly do the photos justice - Mike swallows nervously but agrees. They walk the short distance to Harvey's place and Mike easily hooks up his camera to Harvey's laptop, and, with no small amount of anxiety (he feels nervous the first time he shows his photos to anyone, but this is _Harvey_ ), Mike scrolls through the pictures. He tries to skip over the ones he's stealthily taken of Harvey, but the older man won't let him, his large hand covering Mike's on the mouse. A photo of Harvey appears on the laptop screen. He looks, for lack of a better word, gorgeous, and Mike chances a look over at Harvey to gauge his reaction. Harvey looks back and forth between the picture and Mike a few times, before slowly leaning in, closing the gap between them and gently pressing his mouth to Mike's.

When Mike and Harvey go back to Harvey's after a long work day, bags of Indian take out in hand, and Mike sees one of his own photos printed on canvas and displayed in the hallway, he knows their relationship is serious. Harvey likes Mike's photos, and Mike always lets him go through them after Mike spends an afternoon roaming the city with his camera in hand. Harvey saves his favorites, and Mike feels flattered every time, even if he has no idea what he does with them - at least, until a photo he took from Belvedere Castle makes its way up onto Harvey's wall.

When Harvey displays one of Mike's photos on his office wall at work, Mike knows he's ready to tell people the truth about their relationship. They've been together for nearly six months, and Mike's okay with no one knowing, really, he is. The hiding can get sucky at times, it's true, but they're used to that anyway. They both know that within the microcosm of Pearson Hardman their relationship would be a big deal, and even though it was never explicitly stated, Mike thinks that they both just wanted to make sure this thing between them was real before everyone found out. And then one day a black and white photo of Mike's - all stone and wrought iron - appears on Harvey's wall, and when Jessica asks who the artist is, Harvey smiles indulgently across the desk at him and tells her it's his partner.

When a photo Mike took of the both of them (back in that first week they were together, the morning light streaming through Harvey's windows as they lounged in bed, their faces pressed together in a simple kiss) makes it to Harvey's bedside table, Mike knows it's love. Okay, yeah, he'd pretty much been in love with Harvey for over a year now, long before they actually got together, but this is different. It's a confirmation that this is real, that Harvey, incredibly, unbelievably, loves him too. It's a sign, tangible proof that out of everyone on this planet, Harvey chose _him_.

When the amount of Mike's photos on Harvey's walls outnumbers the paintings and pieces of artwork, Mike moves in. It was really a gradual process because let's face it, no way was Harvey going to Brooklyn, and over the months Mike spent more and more time at Harvey's place, leaving more of his things behind. It got to the point where he hadn't seen his own place for more than a week, and he'd taken over two drawers in Harvey’s dresser, his suits in the walk-in beside Harvey's. Like everything else in their relationship the decision is low key. One of Mike's photos (of bare and snow covered tree trunks, taken upstate when they went away for Christmas) is finally delivered, blown up to a massive size, and when Mike asks Harvey where he wants it, the older man replies with _our bedroom_. Mike quirks an eyebrow at him, repeats the sentence as a question, and Harvey smiles, crossing the room and kissing him. He nods, and says it again. _Our bedroom._

When Harvey asks Mike to go get his camera, because he thinks Mike should come take a photo of the sunset, and Mike crosses the room and opens the case to find it empty but for a platinum ring, he knows it's not possible for anyone to love someone more than he loves Harvey. He turns back and is greeted by the sight of Harvey down on one knee, and Mike doesn't even let him finish his proposal speech before he's getting down on his knees and kissing Harvey within an inch of his life. He doesn't even say yes, but that's okay, because Harvey hears it anyway.

 

*

 

Harvey and Mike get married during a business trip.

It sounds really unromantic when put in that context, but the truth is that the evening was far from unromantic. It might not have been planned, and it might have been private, but it was definitely romantic.

A case takes them, of all places, to Vegas. Mike breaks out into a wide grin when Harvey tells him of their trip, which immediately causes Harvey to roll his eyes and remind him that they are going to work and not to play. Mike nods solemnly, a little _too_ solemnly, and Harvey insists, yet again, that they won't have time to do anything other than work.

Turns out they find the time to get married.

They'd talked about the wedding a few times since they'd gotten engaged, and though they hadn't exactly gotten far in the planning process they'd at least both agreed that they wanted it to be private. Neither of them had a large social circle: Mike had zero family and few friends, and the family Harvey had he either didn't speak to or they lived in another country. And, apart from people like Jessica and Donna, most of the people in his life could be categorized as close acquaintances, but not really close friends. They didn't want a big thing, didn't want to invite people just for the sake of it. Their marriage was going to be just them, every day, and so why should their wedding be any different?

So when the business is all wrapped up Mike suggests they take a couple of day's vacation while they are here. Seems a waste to just fly in and out without getting a chance to see any of the sights, even if that just meant the sights of their hotel room. He can tell Harvey is wavering, that he wants to say yes but is trying to be a responsible Senior Partner, so Mike presses his mouth to Harvey's neck and slides his hand into his pants and Harvey is convinced.

They spend most of the following twenty-four hours in their hotel room, but given that it's a penthouse suite at the Bellagio, one that overlooks the fountains and lights of the Strip, it isn't exactly a chore. They don't even get dressed, because clothes would just get in the way of their unspoken goal to have sex as many times as possible before they have to go back home to New York.

Mike loves sex with Harvey. It's amazing and perfect in a way he's never experienced before. Whether it was frantic fucking against the wall of their condo, lazy blowjobs on the couch when they lounge around the house on the weekend, or quick hand jobs in the bathrooms at Pearson Hardman, it was always mind-blowing. But this, this slow and languorous sex, _this_ is his favorite kind.

Harvey runs his palms all over Mike's body. His touch still makes Mike shiver, even after all this time. It's like he can feel Harvey's reverence, the true depth of his emotions, and it makes Mike simultaneously ecstatic to have found Harvey and terrified that for some reason one day this will all go away. And then Harvey presses a lingering kiss to his stomach, just a hint of tongue, and it's like Harvey knows, like he wants to reassure Mike that he's here, that he'll always be here.

A wide smile graces Harvey's features as he slithers up Mike's body, pressing their lips together in a languid kiss. His body falls easily within the bracket of Mike's arms and legs, and they move together in a natural rhythm as they make out lazily.

But as much as they both love the slow movements, all too soon it's not enough. Harvey makes sure the preparation is more than just that, makes Mike keen and writhe, desperate for more, and then Mike makes a contented noise when Harvey makes the first thrust, one that is echoed in Harvey's sigh. There's a moment of stillness, both of them savoring these first few seconds, still as wondrous as the first time they did this. Mike feels whole, and so fucking happy, and he grasps at Harvey's back, a silent demand for movement. So Harvey obliges, rolling his hips in a slow cadence, Mike meeting each thrust like a dance they've danced a thousand times before.

It would be a shock to exactly no one to learn that Mike is usually pretty vocal during sex. Always has been. He just can't turn his mind off. And that, combined with having practically no filter, just means he talks nonsense pretty much nonstop the whole time. Harvey never seems to mind, even if he isn't generally quite as talkative himself. But this time the words don’t come, it's all just soft sighs and desperate groans, until Harvey's face is buried in his neck, mouthing at the sensitive skin there as their bodies build a crescendoing rhythm, and Mike ends up blurting _marry me._

Harvey chuckles against his skin, pointing out that they're already engaged. Obviously assuming this is just Mike's mind turning to mush in the throes of passion, Harvey slides a hand between them, wraps it around Mike's cock and starts pumping. Mike's mind short-circuits for a moment before he remembers what they were talking about, and he realizes that no, Harvey doesn't get it, so Mike tells him. He says _I want us to get married, here, now. I don't want to wait another day. I want us bound together, I want the world to know that I'm yours and you're mine. I love you, and - oh fuck, right there - and I want to be married to you. Fuck. Will you marry me, Harvey?_

They both come pretty much right after that, breathless and sweaty, and when Harvey collapses onto Mike he doesn't hesitate in wrapping his arms and legs around him, pressing him close. The room is silent but for their panting breaths, and after a few minutes Mike tentatively asks Harvey what he thinks.

Harvey raises his head to look at Mike, surprised. He asks Mike if he's serious and Mike nods his head. Because he is. Trying to find time to get married back in New York when they both work six or seven days a week is going to be nigh on impossible, and why not take advantage of their brief respite? Harvey presses his mouth to Mike's in a deep kiss before saying yes, with the proviso that they are not getting married in a tacky chapel.

So Mike organizes for a Justice of the Peace to come and marry them in their hotel room. It's just the three of them and the Justice's wife, who he bought along to be their witness. They get married in the lounge area of their suite, dressed in their tuxedos (because of course Harvey had insisted they bring them along for their meetings). The ceremony is short and sweet and when he kisses his husband Mike knows that this is what he was put on this earth for.

They don't have any wedding pictures other than the ones Mike takes of them, photos that are practically selfies, Mike holding his camera at arm's length and taking a photo of the two of them as they slow dance to _Gorecki_. The picture shows Harvey nosing at Mike's temple, their tuxedo jackets off and bow ties resting loosely around their necks, both of them wearing contented smiles, and even though the photo turns out angled and slightly blurry it's still perfect.

 

*

 

Harvey doesn’t have many of his own photos around the apartment. Okay, that's not true. He doesn't have _any_. If Mike is at one end of the spectrum, with the thousands of photos saved on his laptop and the dozens of photos scattered around the apartment, then Harvey is at the opposite end, where Mike has yet to see one photo of Harvey from the time before they met (that one time he and Rachel googled Harvey doesn't count).

Mike knows Harvey has a complicated relationship with his family - that he hasn't spoken to his mother in decades and that his brother lives overseas so they aren't really as close as they used to be - but he also knows that Harvey loved his dad, and that when they were kids he and Marcus were the best of friends. So it's still somewhat of a surprise that Harvey has nothing.

When Mike asks him about it not long after they start dating, he doesn't get much of a response. The second time he asks if he has any photos of his family he wants to put up, Harvey takes his hand in his, bringing it to his lips so he can kiss the skin just near Mike's wedding ring, and says that they already have photos of his family up.

So Mike stops asking after that. It doesn't seem to bother Harvey, so he doesn't really think too much of it.

And then one day, about seven or eight months after they get married, Mike is digging around in their home office, looking for his birth certificate because he needs it to apply for a passport (there has been talk of going to Europe for their one year anniversary, so Mike is doing everything in his power to make it happen), and he stumbles upon a thick leather photo album buried in the bottom drawer of the desk. Mike's never seen it before, and though he knows there's probably a reason for that, he still can't help but pull the album from the drawer and open it.

(He's never been very good with boundaries, and Harvey can't complain because he knew this when he married Mike.)

He sits at the desk and slowly flips through the album, a soft smile on his face. Harvey was the cutest baby Mike has ever seen. There aren't a lot of photos, but there's enough for him to see Harvey grow up before his eyes, from a cherubic looking baby to a stocky and scowling teen, at which point the photos cease.

When Mike gets to the end of the album he goes back to the start, zeroing in on his favorite photo. It's a picture in which Harvey must only be one or two years old. He's standing in a wading pool, the water barely above his ankles. He's standing there in just a diaper and white tank, his blonde hair damp but clearly drying, grinning up at the camera with a wide and happy smile.

Seeing these photos triggers something that Mike had been trying to ignore. Well, no, that wasn't entirely accurate. He wasn't ignoring it as such, he just didn't know how to bring it up to Harvey. They've never really talked about it, not seriously anyway, and he honestly has no idea what Harvey's reaction will be. He hopes it will be positive, but can't tell whether that's more wishful thinking than an opinion born of actual behavioral evidence.

But he really can't wait any longer to find out.

So Mike heads out to the lounge room, to where Harvey is sitting on the couch idly watching a movie. He sinks down straight onto Harvey's lap, cradling his jaw and kissing him deeply. When they pull back Harvey quirks an eyebrow in silent question and Mike just kisses him again. He presses his forehead to Harvey's, fingertips lightly framing his face, and with closed eyes Mike tells Harvey in a whisper _I love you_.

Harvey remains silent, like he knows that Mike wants to say something else. And he's right. Of course he's right. Harvey knows Mike like his second self, he knows every quirk and mannerism, he knows things before Mike says them, from the stupidly obvious to the darkest secret he's never said aloud to anyone. So Harvey remains silent, just trails a hand up and down Mike's spine as he patiently waits for Mike to continue.

Finally, Mike opens his eyes, pulls back slightly so he can look at Harvey properly when he asks _do you wanna have a baby?_

 

*

 

Mike loves Harvey for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the life he's given him.

He still remembers that first day - their first handshake, the banter, the look on Harvey's face when he quoted the BarBri legal handbook verbatim - and it seems incredible to him that he had no idea that he'd just met his soul mate. But he didn't know, didn't even have an inkling yet. It wasn't love at first sight, not for him, and he knows it wasn't for Harvey either. When he met Harvey he didn't see his soul mate, he just saw someone who intrigued him, who he liked and wanted to get to know, and someone who, astoundingly enough, offered him the chance of a new life.

It still amazes him, all these years later, everything that Harvey has done for him. He didn't have to hire Mike that day. In fact, he really shouldn't have. It was a risk, one they both blew off, pretending like it was just some game they had to win. But the truth is, if they are ever found out, the consequences will be real and shattering. So yeah, Harvey Specter, best closer in the city, the lone wolf who didn't give a damn about anyone or anything, hired someone he just met who wasn't qualified at great personal risk.

He did that for Mike.

He changed Mike's life that day, and here they are now, celebrating their one year anniversary in Venice. It's yet another example of the life that Harvey has given him. Because let's face it, without Harvey, in what other circumstance would Mike ever be strolling through St Mark's Square?

Which isn't to say their relationship is all about what Harvey has done for Mike. It's not. They're partners, wholly and completely. Mike knows the difference he's made in Harvey's life. He knows how much happier Harvey is now. He knows the difference it's made to him, knowing that Mike knows him for exactly who he is, faults and all, and still loves him. How Mike's love has finally made him feel settled and content.

That day changed everything, for both of them. Mike likes that, actually. He likes that they've both been equally moved and changed by their relationship, that even though it might appear that it's just him, it's really not.

They've given each other a better life. And halfway through their fortnight away they get a phone call to let them know their life is about to get even better.

Eloise is pregnant.

They are going to have a baby.

 

*

 

When Harvey and Mike's daughter arrives into the world Mike takes over a hundred photos of her in the first twelve hours. Most of them are taken on his iphone, and Melody looks basically the same in every one, but he's too in love with her to care.

(Trying to agree on a name for their child has been a near constant discussion the last four months, and they'd come up with a short list of girls names, boys names, and unisex names. But when they get to the hospital and meet their daughter, none of the names feel right. She doesn't even have a name when they take her home. But when they walk through the door of their apartment, this tiny bundle of life in the crook of Harvey's arms, they discover that in their haste to get to the hospital they'd left Mike's iPod playing, and they're greeted by the sounds of one of Gordon's saxophone solos. Harvey looks to Mike, unshed tears shining in his eyes, and Mike understands exactly. Harvey looks down at their daughter and says her name for the first time. _Melody._ Mike grins, because it's perfect. He says it too, rolls the name around on his tongue. _Melody Edith_ Mike suggests, tentative, hopeful, and Harvey nods. Mike doesn't remember ever feeling this happy.)

Mike goes photo crazy. There are pictures of Harvey cradling her small form reverently, photos of Donna and Jessica holding her with bright smiles on their faces, snapshots of her sleeping in her crib. Harvey eventually wrestles the camera from Mike's hands, and Mike thinks Harvey's about to hide it somewhere Mike will never find it, but instead he just keeps hold of it until Mike picks up their daughter so Harvey can take a photo of Mike holding Melody.

The photo, with Melody's serene expression and Mike looking at her like she hung not only the moon but all the stars in the sky, is beautiful, and it ends up on Mike's dresser.

Being a father is the most wonderful and surreal thing Mike has ever experienced. It's terrifying and exhausting and stressful, but all that seems to fade away when he cradles her against his chest, or when Harvey reads her stories, or when she falls asleep in the middle of their bed.

 

*

 

Harvey takes two whole months off work.

Once they found out that Eloise was pregnant and this was actually happening they'd quickly and easily agreed that Mike should leave Pearson Hardman to look after their child. Neither of them wanted a nanny, and since Harvey earned more and of the two of them was the actual legitimate lawyer, it was probably the quickest and easiest discussion they'd ever had. Mike might've felt a small twinge at leaving his job behind, but it wouldn't be forever, and the sacrifice would be well worth it.

Harvey didn't want to go back to working long hours pretty much every day of the week either. So he'd told Jessica that when the baby was born he was taking a few months off, and when he came back, he couldn't work the way he had been. He was putting his family first, and she could either let him or watch him walk out the door. Unsurprisingly, she agreed to his terms.

The two months fly by in a heartbeat. Mike hates that Harvey has to go back to work almost as much as Harvey does. They've been a great team, in this as in all things, and Mike's going to miss that support. But Harvey's going to miss Melody more, so Mike doesn't feel like he should complain.

Harvey spends all night the evening before his return to work grumbling about it, and Mike indulges him, and pretends that he doesn't know that even though Harvey's pain at not being with Mike and Melody every day is completely genuine, that Harvey actually has missed work and part of him _is_ excited to go back.

It's weird, seeing Harvey getting ready to leave for work when he's staying behind, but he watches Harvey press a soft kiss to the top of Melody's head and then Mike kisses Harvey, lingering for as long as possible before he tells Harvey to have a good day at work.

It's a long week, and everyone, Melody included, has a hard time adjusting.

So when Friday rolls around Mike decides to surprise Harvey. After a quiet morning they have lunch and then Mike takes Melody to the Museum of Natural History - not because he thinks she has any idea of where she is, but because he needs to get out of the house and the weather is too cool to just aimlessly roam the streets with a two month old. They wander the museum, Mike with his camera in hand. Mike explains to Melody what all the exhibits are about and gets hit on by two different people (seriously, can't they see the wedding ring?). He meets a single mom who's there with her three year old son, and they strike up a conversation after he catches her laughing at Mike shutting down Random Suitor #2. She makes a joke about how she's just glad it was happening to someone else instead of her for once, and they end up chatting for a while.

When five o'clock rolls around Mike and Melody leave the museum and head to Pearson Hardman to surprise Harvey. They don't even make it to the office before they're accosted by a stunned Donna, who immediately lifts Melody out of her stroller. Assured that their daughter is in capable hands, Mike just heads straight into Harvey's office.

Harvey grins when he sees Mike come into his office, immediately standing to greet him in the middle of the room with a quick kiss and a surprised _what are you doing here?_ Mike tells him that he and Melody have come to take him home, and somehow, impossibly, Harvey's smile widens. He cups a hand around the back of Mike's neck and squeezes gently, kissing him again before extracting himself and heading across the room to where Donna has just entered. Harvey takes his daughter from Donna's arms, kissing Melody's cheek before slotting her easily in his arms.

Harvey tells Mike that Jessica will kill him if she finds out Melody was here and he didn't bring her in to visit, so he'll quickly pop into Jessica's office and let her know he's done for the day. Mike nods, saying he'll get everything packed up for him while he's gone. Harvey points to the open manila folder on his desk and tells Mike he needs to bring it home to work on before Donna rolls her eyes and shoos him out the door.

Mike and Donna chat amiably for a few minutes before they're interrupted by a phone call. While Donna goes back to her desk to answer it Mike heads around Harvey's desk and starts packing everything up. He sits down in the chair and shuffles the mouse to unlock the computer from sleep mode so he can start shutting everything down. He saves all Harvey's documents and closes all the programs, finishing with his email.

That's when he sees it. The desktop background on Harvey's computer is a photo Mike took of Harvey and Melody about three weeks after she was born. Mike had awoken in the morning and stumbled out to the lounge to discover Harvey reclined on the couch, Melody lying on his chest, both of them sound asleep. Mike had been unable to resist, grabbing his camera and taking some photos. He couldn't have planned the photo better if he tried: they were bathed in a soft morning light, Harvey in his white t-shirt and Melody in her long, fluffy, white bodysuit, curled up on Harvey's chest with his large hand keeping her in place. The photo is black and white, taken in profile, so you can see the side of Harvey's face but all of Melody's as she is lying on her tummy, her face turned to the side, her round mouth slightly open as she sleeps.

It's beautiful.

Mike takes a moment to smile at the photo before shutting the computer down and packing Harvey's files into his briefcase. He grabs the bag and heads out to Donna's desk, chats to her for a few minutes while he waits for Harvey.

Five minutes later Harvey returns, grinning at them as he approaches, a now sleeping Melody cradled in his arms. He puts her straight into the stroller, fussing with the blankets to make sure she's warm enough.

Harvey slips an arm around Mike's waist as he waits for the two of them to finish catching up. And once there's a suitable lull in conversation Harvey turns to Mike and asks _ready to go home?_

Mike nods. He says goodbye to Donna, and Harvey tells Donna to finish up and head home. She smiles in gratitude and waves them off, wishing them both a good weekend.

Harvey takes control of the stroller, pushing it through the office, and Mike can't help but notice him pointedly ignoring all the stares. Harvey's not ashamed or embarrassed, Mike knows, he's just private. And besides, it's not like the stares are a new thing. They probably don't even register for Harvey anymore.

Once they make it out onto the city streets it's all too easy for Mike to take Harvey's hand and tangle their fingers together. Harvey smiles at him, pushing the stroller with one hand, and he asks about their day.

The Specter-Ross family walks through the city streets, hand in hand, towards home.


End file.
